


The Lonely

by ShelbyLehnsherr



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe Erik, Angst, Businessman Erik, Established Relationship, Kindergarten Teacher Charles, M/M, Neglected Charles, Panicking Charles, Psychological Drama, Relationship Problems
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-28
Updated: 2011-12-28
Packaged: 2017-10-28 08:08:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/305713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShelbyLehnsherr/pseuds/ShelbyLehnsherr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shaw put Erik on a project that requires him to stay late at the office. After two weeks of coming home late, Charles grows paranoid and begins to make his own assumptions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Lonely

**The Lonely**

\---

Erik didn't know how the situation began to spiral this out of control.

For the past couple weeks, Erik has been condemned to his office, working on Shaw's latest and greatest project, until the late hours of the night. Shaw repeatedly lectured him on how the plans had to be completed by the end of the month -- just in time to present it to the board for its final review. Not getting this deal would cost his company millions, and Shaw was not willing to let that happen. Naturally, he put his most trustworthy employee on the assignment, so he will know exactly who is to blame if the proposal falls through.

Erik had no choice but to put all of his focus in on this assignment. He did not think to call Charles and warn him that he will be late coming home once again, which was his first mistake. He had the mental image of Charles pacing the living room just waiting for a phone call, or even a text message, only for it to never come.

When Erik got home, he sensed that the usual aura in the apartment was off. Even after apologizing for his late arrival, it did not wipe the irritated look from Charles face. Instead, his apology somehow spurred an argument -- an argument that had gotten so out of hand, Erik didn't even know what to say or do to turn it around. They never argued before, nor had he ever seen Charles get quite as angry as he is now.  

\---

Charles was sure that he'd never been so angry in his entire life.

Normally, he didn't have a temper. He was mild-mannered, very well teetering on the edge of a little too positive, and years of experience with children had provided him with ungodly amounts of patience. He could let things go, eventually, and though he felt a little too passionately and perhaps let his worries get the best of him on more than one occasion, he couldn't remember the last time he'd been this furious.

In retrospect, the issue should have been addressed weeks ago. Erik had been coming home later and later, the keys rattling in the lock just as Charles was changing for bed on some nights. He'd blamed it on work, a new project that Shaw had dreamed up and put him in charge of because _I'm the least idiotic out of all of them, Charles, and I'm the only one that knows what he's doing_ , but in the years they'd been together, Erik had never come home quite so late and without an explanation. He would call as soon as he could, or text at the very least, but even those were becoming few and far between, and Charles couldn't help but allow his anxiety to wiggle its way even further into his mind. He'd tried to ignore it, but it was there, persistent and absolutely unrelenting.

It had started with dinner; under the impression that Erik would be home at his usual time, Charles had decided to leave the take out menus in the drawer for the evening and cook. It had been less disastrous than his last attempt, but as seven o' clock slowly turned to eight and then nine with still no call from Erik, he'd grown impatient. His first reaction had been worry -- perhaps something had happened on the way home and he just didn't know it -- and he'd been reaching for the phone for the fifth time when he'd heard Erik's keys in the lock and the tell-tale sounds of his briefcase being thrown onto the table.  
Everything had quickly gone downhill from there.

"I honestly don't know what to believe anymore, Erik. We barely speak, I hardly ever see you..." Charles said, throwing his hands up in frustration. "It frightens me to think that there might be a possibility that you're occupying your time with someone else."

Erik froze.

How _dare_ he insinuate such a thing.

He looked away from Charles and turned his attention to an uninteresting spot on the wall. His jaw visibly tensed and his hands clenched at this sides as he attempted to keep his temper in check. Erik could not remember a time where he had gotten legitimately mad at Charles, but tonight, Charles had gone way over the line with his assumptions. "And you are suggesting that everything I've said up until this point was a lie?" His tone was bitter, laced with venom he never thought could be directed at his husband. "If you believe that, then I am a fool for thinking you knew me at all."

Erik would never _ever_ cross the boundaries of their marriage.

There was a voice in the back of Charles mind screaming that he was wrong, so wrong, and that this argument was for nothing. He knew that he was probably saying things he didn't mean, but a larger part of him knew that he was only saying the things he'd been too frightened to bring up otherwise. Lately, there had been a tension and a distance in their relationship that Charles absolutely hated -- he'd always been close to Erik, perhaps a little too close, waltzing about with his heart on his sleeve because he thought that they wouldn't be the type of couple that had screaming matches in the middle of their living room.

"I don't know you anymore, Erik! That's the problem!" Charles shouted, voice cracking as an uncomfortable lump rose in his throat. "You're coming home later and later, I'm lucky to get a text message from you throughout the entire day...what other conclusions could I possibly come to?"

Erik shook his head and bit his lower lip in thought. It made him furious that Charles doubted his faithfulness in their relationship. Charles claimed to know everything about him, but in the end, he knows nothing at all if he finds the audacity to question him on a matter as sensitive as this one. "You're right, Charles." He replied as evenly as possible, and then grabbed his coat harshly from the back of the kitchen chair on which he laid it moments prior. "You're absolutely right, as always."

Charles watched with mounting dread as Erik turned to retrieve his coat from a chair in the kitchen and angrily put it on. His last comment had stung; their arguments had always been petty, pointless things, encompassing a handful of untrue insults meant to temporarily wound until one of them cracked and apologized. This, however, felt different -- they were beyond harping on each other's weaknesses now. As much as he wanted to, Charles couldn't allow himself to be the first one to break; he didn't want Erik to leave, of course, but he wasn't going to admit that he'd been foolish for thinking so lowly of the other man either.  

"So you're going to leave, then?" he spat in retaliation, raising his eyebrows in an expression of mock surprise. "Fine, be my guest. I'm sure I'll hardly notice you're gone anyway -- it's not like you're ever here in the first place."  
Erik had to bite his tongue to refrain from saying anything more. He feared that he may say something he regretted, because everything he said up until this very moment was true. He was not fooling around behind Charles back. He would never dream of it.  

A few strides and a slam of the door later, Erik was gone.

Where he was going -- he didn't even know.

\---

Erik's hand was on the door and there was an angry look in his eyes, one that Charles hadn't been on the receiving end of in their entire relationship. Exasperated, sure, annoyed, of course, but Erik had never been truly angry with him that he was aware of. He was sure that the other man was just trying to keep himself from saying anything more -- years of being with Erik had allowed him to read his face well, and he knew that expression -- and Charles bit his lower lip, regret welling up inside of him.

"Erik, don't --,"

But the door was already slamming closed, and he could just barely hear the first of Erik's retreating footsteps down the corridor before they faded away completely, and he was, once again, alone. He stood there for a moment as though he were in shock, a nasty knot twisting its way into the pit of his stomach and making him feel almost nauseous, before he slumped against the kitchen counter and buried his face in his hands.

\---

The late hours of the night began to drift into the early hours of the morning.

For the first hour, Erik merely drove around the city, having no particular destination in mind. He was irritated at the fact that even at one in the morning, the streets of New York still bustled with life. It had crossed Erik's mind to head to a local bar, but the last thing he wanted to do was get himself into even more trouble.

Two o'clock rolled in and Erik somehow managed to end up on the complete opposite side of the city. He was sitting in his car, which was currently parked outside of a bar he used to frequent before he moved closer to his workplace -- with Charles. He thought about going in, but he didn't have the will or the want to socialize with anyone at the present time.

Erik's tired sea-storm gray eyes flickered down to the cup holder, where his cellphone currently sat, vibrating for what had to be the twentieth time that night. He could clearly read on the screen that it was Charles calling him again -- and he knew he could expect another short voice message. He'd listened to the first few, but he quickly resisted the urge, knowing that if he continued to listen, he would be tempted to go right back home. He made it nearly four hours without answering the phone or going back home -- which was more than he thought he would be able to do.

His phone stopped vibrating and a short moment later, a beep resounded through the small space, indicting a message was left in his inbox. Erik's fingers itched with the need to pick up the phone and listen to all the ones he'd missed -- to read all the text messages he ignored over the last few hours. It was clear that Charles was doing anything he could to get in touch with him. It was clear that Charles was feeling remorse over what happened between them.

A soft sigh slipped from his lips as he rubbed his temples, allowing his eyes to slip shut. A headache had been scratching its way to the surface since he parked the car and finally permitted himself to think the situation over.

Had this not happened, everything would have been back to normal in a few days. He would have come home at his usual time, enjoyed dinner with his husband, and engaged in whatever activities they felt like for the rest of the evening until they felt like going to bed. In a way, Erik understood how not seeing one another for more than an hour a day could be frustrating. What he did not see, at first, was how it seemed to affect Charles.

Obviously, Charles felt neglected. He was being cast aside because of this stupid project. Erik hated that Charles was feeling this way at all. Everything had been so perfect between them, and just now Erik was beginning to understand that the moment things start going downhill, Charles get a bit paranoid.

However, he wished Charles trusted him enough to know that he would never do anything along the lines he so angrily described earlier. Truth be told, their relationship meant far too much to him and he would never dream of jeopardizing it.  
Erik only noticed that fifteen minutes passed when his cell phone began to vibrate once again. Still needing time to think everything over, Erik ignored it and kept his eyes closed as he mused on what he should do next.

\---

One hour, seven phone calls, and four voice mails later, Charles hung up the phone, sucked in a shaky breath, swiped angrily at his eyes, and dialed a completely different number.

His sister answered by the end of the third ring, her voice thick with sleep.

"Raven, I..." he was already sniffling like a complete idiot, and it only took her a moment to go from groggy to completely alert.

"Charles?" On the other end of the line, he could hear her sitting up in bed and somewhere in the background, Hank's quiet voice. "Charles, what's wrong?"

He paused for a long moment, rubbing anxiously at his temples. Raven was no stranger to his relationship with Erik; she was, after all, the only person he trusted enough to call for some sort of advice when it came to the other man. But how could he possibly explain this? She'd helped him through numerous other things, leading him through the in's and out's of a rather tricky relationship, but never an argument like this.

"Charles?"

He heaved a sigh and opened his eyes, blinking rapidly against the welling tears. He'd gone from anger to regret in a matter of moments following Erik's departure, and now, he was scrambling to pick up the pieces.

"I think I made a very big mistake, Raven." he said quietly, tracing circles on the knee of his trousers. "I've really managed to make quite a mess of things this time."

"Oh, Charles." The sympathy and concern in his sister's voice was nearly enough to break his heart. "What happened?"

"Erik and I got into an argument." Charles said. "He's been staying at work later and later, you remember how I told you? He didn't come home tonight until nearly half past ten and he hadn't bothered to call or anything. I was so angry, Raven, I've never been so angry in my entire life --"

Raven interrupted him smoothly, and he could practically see her pacing the floor of her apartment while Hank slept on in the next room. "Did you say something you didn't mean?"

"Of course I did!" He paused again, raking a hand through his already mused hair. "I told him I didn't know him anymore, and that I thought he'd found someone e-else. And then I just let him l-leave." His voice was shaking by the end of it and he held the phone closer to his ear. "I just let him go, and now he isn't answering any of my calls, and I don't have a clue where he is --"

"Charles, Charles, stop." Raven said quickly. "I'm sure you both said some things you didn't mean, but he'll come back, I know he will. He's probably just blowing off some steam somewhere, driving around. Give him time and he'll come home."  
"But he won't pick up the phone." Charles said quietly. "What if he doesn't come home?"

Raven sighed on the other end of the line. "He will, Charles. People fight, you know that. It happens and you say things you shouldn't but then you apologize and move on. He loves you. One argument isn't going to ruin what you two have."  
"We've never fought like this before, Raven."

"I know, I know." she said gently. "Do you need me to come over?"

Charles shook his head and realized a moment too late that she couldn't see the action. "No, no, of course not. Don't come out this late on my behalf. I'll be fine."

"He'll come back, Charles. Just give him a little time." Raven said. "And call me if you need anything else, all right? I'll have the phone close by."

"Thank you, Raven." he said, feeling once again as though their roles were switched, and she were the older sibling. "Good night."

There were still no text messages or missed calls once he'd hung up, but that didn't prevent him from staring at the phone for a long moment before hitting the first number on his speed dial. Erik's face flashed onto his screen, and though the phone rang and rang, the other man never answered.

"You've reached Erik Lehnsherr. Please leave your name and number and a brief message and I'll be sure to get back to you as quickly as possible. Thank you."

Charles sucked in another shaky breath and left what must have been the fifth of dozens of voicemails, trying to keep his voice from quivering.

"Erik, it's me. Please pick up the phone." A pause. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean what I said. You're worrying me, okay? Please call me back, or text, or something. I need to know you're all right. I don't know where you are, but I want you to come back to the apartment, please. I love you."

He hung up and tossed the phone onto the carpet, feeling worse than he had in his entire life.

\---

The hours had passed agonizingly slow.

He'd paced the living room so many times he was sure there would be permanent track marks in the carpet come morning.   
He'd called Erik so many times that eventually, the voicemail inbox had been full and he'd been forced to simply let it ring and then hang up. He'd texted, each message getting less and less calm and more and more desperate. He'd thrown the phone across the room and slumped onto the kitchen floor just as the clock chimed two, but a moment later he'd reached for it again and dialed the same number he'd been dialing for the past several hours.

It rang and rang and rang, but Erik never answered.

Guilt and worry gnawed at his insides in equal measure; at some point during the night, Charles grappled with the idea of donning his jacket and going out to look for Erik himself, but he knew it would be a fruitless search. If Erik had left, he'd done so with the intention of not being found -- the city was huge, after all, and Erik was familiar with the many nooks and crannies that would otherwise be overlooked -- and Charles was sure that he was the very last person Erik wanted to see. He still couldn't shake the lasting image of Erik's face before he'd turned sharply on his heel and slammed the door; Charles had never before seen him so angry, so absolutely hurt and it made him sick to think that he'd been the cause of it.

He'd been stupid, so very, very stupid, to accuse Erik of something so drastic as cheating, but it had been his own twist of petty loneliness and hurt that had spurred it to begin with. He knew, deep down, that the possibility of Erik finding someone else was slim; Erik, who'd been so wholly and naturally devoted from the very beginning, who'd done nothing but love and give and be everything that Charles didn't think he deserved.

He'd known it, all along, and yet he'd also managed to singlehandedly ruin it in the course of an evening.

The last voicemail he'd been able to leave was at half past two, and his voice had barely remained steady for the duration of it.  
"Erik, it's me, again. Please answer your phone." he said shakily, covering his eyes with his hand. "I know I've called you many times, but I really just need you to answer, just once, please? Or come home, please. I'm really worried. It's very late." Another pause, much longer than the last. "Please just come home, Erik, okay? Please?"

He'd hung up then, unsure of whether he could actually choke out anything else, and the phone had remained silent for the rest of the night.

Sometime during the night, he'd ended up in their bedroom, throwing himself onto the bed and burying his face in the pillow as another sob tore its way out of his throat. He wasn't sure how long he laid there, eyes squeezed shut and cell phone clutched tightly in his hand, listening to the practically screaming silence of the apartment and a few stories down, the murmur of traffic in the streets. Erik was out there somewhere. Erik was out there somewhere, and he wasn't coming home.  
He'd called one last time, but only allowed the phone to ring twice before he hung up, thoroughly miserable.

Somehow, Charles must have fallen asleep, mentally and emotionally exhausted. His throat felt raw and his eyes were itching, but he was so very tired. Foolishly, he hoped that come morning, this would have all been some stupid, terrible dream, and Erik would be there as he always was, detangling himself from Charles with a sleepy laugh and chiding him when he insisted on just five more minutes. But that was far-fetched, even for him, and he knew that he was naive for even considering it to be a possibility.

There was a hand brushing against his cheek what felt like hours later and Charles stirred slightly, face scrunching up against the contact. When a kiss was pressed to his forehead, he blinked slowly, trying to focus on the face hovering above his own in the dark.

\---

It was around three-thirty when Erik decided it was time he go home. For the first part of his time away, he wanted to stay angry because he felt he had a reason to. Now that he had given it some serious thought and allowed himself to calm down significantly, he knew this whole thing was foolish and could be talked out as long as they were both willing to cooperate.   
During the half hour drive back to the apartment, his phone only rang once. For twenty minutes, the air in the car was silent and that lead Erik to believe that Charles had either given up or simply fallen asleep.

Erik, as he ascended the staircase leading to his and Charles shared apartment, was hoping that Charles was indeed asleep -- because he honestly didn't know what he would say upon walking in and seeing him awake. The messages his husband left him through the duration of his absence were by no means malevolent. He could hear the shakiness and worry in Charles voice as he attempted to get through a full sentence without letting a sob overwhelm him. He couldn't bear to hear Charles behaving in this way and he was determined to never let things get this out of hand in the future.

Erik fished his keys out of his jacket pocket and proceeded to quietly unlock the apartment door. He slowly pushed it open and stepped inside, scanning the vicinity for any sign of Charles. None. He wasn't in the living room, nor was he in the kitchen. His next stop was the bedroom, where he saw Charles lying atop the sheets on their bed, cell phone in hand.

A sad smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he walked over to the bedside, only to sink down upon it seconds later, careful not to jar Charles out of sleep quite yet.

He was so sorry -- so unbelievably and terribly sorry that this happened. He didn't want to be one of those couples that fought all the time over meaningless things, even if this was something that should not have been taken lightly. All in all, Erik wanted Charles to know that he wasn't going anywhere and he was going to do whatever he could to make things right between them.

Erik brought a hand up and cupped Charles cheek, thumb beginning to rub slow, soothing circles over his cheekbone. He frowned as he took in the puffiness around Charles eyes, obviously from crying nearly the entire time he was away. His face was slightly flushed as well as his hair mused. It made the knot in Erik's stomach tighten uncomfortably. In essence, Charles acted this way because he felt neglected.

He would never allow him to feel that way again.

Erik leaned down, upper half practically towering over Charles, and placed a gentle kiss on his forehead. He heard Charles shift underneath him as he began to move away -- their eyes met and as much as he felt he should look away, he could not. He swallowed thickly around the nervous lump in his throat, flexing his jaw as he sifted through every crevice of his mind for something -- anything to say.

It took him far too long to realize that the person leaning over him was, in fact, Erik. For a moment, all he could do was simply stare, his mind completely and utterly blank as he struggled to process his husband's sudden return and appearance in their bedroom. He'd expected to see anger and hurt still lingering in the other man's gaze once they did see one another again, but it seemed as though the hours they'd spent apart had allowed Erik to clear his mind.

He scrambled to sit up, relief flooding through him -- he'd come back, he was fine, he was here and back in the apartment where he belonged and they could work this out, somehow, he knew it -- at the sight of Erik seated on the edge of the bed.   
"Erik," Charles said quietly, rushing to speak before Erik had a chance to, "I'm sorry, I never should have gotten so angry with you --,"

Erik's hand had dropped from his husbands face as soon as he'd realized he was awake. As Charles rose, he leaned back and dropped his hands down onto his own thighs, not quite knowing what else to do with them at the moment. "Charles, Charlesplease." He said just above a whisper, reflexively clearing his throat. "You're right. I shouldn't stay at the office so late at night. I know I should have called, I know, and I agree, my inability to do so is inexcusable."

Charles frowned as soon as Erik's hands fell away from his face and landed back in his own lap; they were treading on dangerous ground, he knew, and the very last thing he wanted was to send them back to where they'd been at the start of the evening. He dropped his gaze for a moment before looking back up to Erik, worrying his lower lip.  

"No, no, no." he said quickly, shaking his head and reaching out instinctively to grab both of Erik's hands. "I was being incredibly stupid, I'm sorry, I never wanted you to leave."

Erik thought it would have been rather idiotic for him to say 'I probably never should have', because it was too little too late to take back all that had been done. "Tomorrow, things will be back to how they should be, I promise." He didn't know how he was going to do it, but he was semi-confident in his ability to convince Shaw that whatever could be done at the office, could also be done at home.

Charles it be best he not persist the conversation further, knowing full well that Erik was a man of his word. He merely nodded in response, releasing Erik's hands to pull him into an embrace. Erik's arms went up to loop around Charles waist, while Charles went around his neck. Their lips met in a series of several brief kisses, Erik's fingers curling in the material of Charles shirt as he lowered him back onto the bed. "I love you." Erik whispered against his lips, shifting so that he was lying beside him, rather than on top.

Charles smiled and closed his eyes; his head remained resting on Erik's chest and the sound of his steady heartbeat slowly lulled him to sleep. Erik's arms tightened around him -- a silent promise that he would never make the mistake of leaving him again.

 **-End-**


End file.
